Lost in Nightmares
by Techne
Summary: Heather wakes up to discover that she has been in a psychiatric hospital for several months. Was it all just a dream? Did any of it really happen? Or was it all in her head? Can she prove it to a skeptical doctor by having him take her back to Silent Hill? -Takes place directly after Silent Hill 3.-
1. Chp 1: Was it All Just A Dream?

**Lost in Nightmares**  
A Silent Hill Fan-Fiction

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Story is rated MATURE for disturbing content and adult situations. Please be warned that it is meant for a mature audience only.

This story centers on Heather Mason and the aftermath of the game. I got the idea for this story from Shattered Memories, of how shes been going to a doctor to try and open up about her repressed feelings. The idea of that interested me. What if she'd woken up to find that it was all just a dream? That she was actually in a mental institution, being evaluated by a doctor and having no recollection of why she's even there in the first place? What would happen if she were to convince them to let her prove to them that the place was real?

Questions, comments, and reviews are always welcome.

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**Chapter One**  
**Was It All Just A Dream?**

**"I have no right, by anything I do or say, to demean a human being in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him; it is what he thinks of himself. To undermine a man`s self-respect is a sin."**

**- Antoine de Saint-Exupery.**

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Her eyes snapped open, a hoarse scream erupting from deep within her throat as her eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other.

Trying to sit up, Heather Mason found that she was unable to do so due to the thick leather strap that was secured tightly around her mid-section. She began to struggle, curse words flying from her mouth as she vainly tried to break free of the cuffs on her ankles and wrists. Panic began to take its hold on her. Waking up in a mysterious room, strapped down to a bed? With all the shit that Heather had been put through in the past twenty-four hours, there was no telling what was going on for her to be in this predicament.

From what she could tell by from her surroundings, Heather had woken up in what appeared to be a hospital room. The room was nothing like she had expected to see—sterile white. A window to her left let in sunlight, bathing her in an orange glow. Next to the window was a counter, complete with cabinets and a sink to wash your hands in.

"W-Where am I?" Her parched throat made her words sound garbled. She started thrashing, trying to get out of her cuffs one last time before letting out a huff and falling back against the bed in defeat.

There wasn't much that she could recall of what had happened. A blinding flash of white light as Valtiel was dying; Claudia was lying on the ground dead; her and Douglas were trying to get out of Silent Hill, but something somewhere had gone wrong. She couldn't remember exactly what that something was; it was like there was something blocking her from remembering and when she tried to, Heather's skull started to slowly build a throbbing headache.

And then there was her father.

Yes, Heather did remember finding him dead in their apartment when she'd returned home from the mall after meeting Douglas for the first time. Guilt racked her over his death and having been powerless to prevent it, it made her feel so weak. His death had struck her to her very core, vengeance burning feverently in her heart over what had happened to him. She would never be the same without him. It was the one and only reason she had made the decision to brave the horrors of Silent Hill, all to avenge his death.

It had been that bitch Claudia Wolf who had been the cause behind all of this. She had acted as if she didn't have a care in the world when the decision of taking a man's life was hanging in the balance, like he was nothing but a roach beneath her boot that she could crush. A psychopath with no one that could stand in her way. Heather had told herself that she would make that devious bitch pay and she had stayed true to those words til the very end.

"Hello!? Can anyone hear me? Where am I!?".

For the next ten minutes, she laid in the bed, screaming her hoarse throat out to whomever might be listening. She was scared. After everything that had happened to her, Heather had thought that there was nothing that could frighten her as much as that place had done.

She was wrong.

All of this made her wonder how long she'd been unconscious, her skin did feel a bit dirty and clammy now that she thought about it, and her blonde hair was quite greasy from lack of being washed. If she had to guess, Heather figured that she'd been out for about a week or two, which was strange.

The room she'd woken up in was nothing like any hospital room Heather had ever seen before. Something wasn't right about the place either. It made her wonder if she was even in a hospital to begin with. The atmosphere it gave off wasn't that of a place where you could feel safe, where you knew everything would be okay. No, it felt ominous. Being in Silent Hill, she had become use to hallucinations and if this was in fact one, then it was the best one she'd seen yet. As far as room's went, she'd been expecting a little bit more.

Instead, she was strapped to a bed in a cold, sterile room that smelled to much like industrialized cleaner. The room was generic all right, it was this that confirmed her fears—she wasn't in any normal hospital.

Throughout her time in Silent Hill, Heather had gone through a hospital where she'd encountered a man named Leonard Wolf, someone who had offered to help her and then attacked her after thinking she'd been trying to play him. For several minutes, she'd thought that maybe she was in the hospital in Silent Hill, but found it to be unlikely. The room she was in was far to clean to ever be located there. Compared to the walls covered with decades of rust and old blood of that hospital, it was almost like she was in heaven.

Out of nowhere, there was a loud beeping noise to her left, the card reader next to the door which she had previously failed to notice flashed from red light to green and the soft click of the door unlocking echoed in the quiet room. _I wonder who it is?_ She turned her head to look as the door slowly creaked open and a man in a doctor's coat walked in. His hair was gray and balding at the top, and he wore thick, oval-shaped glasses. He smiled when he looked over at Heather, then pulled out a pen and began to scribble something down on the clipboard he held in his hand.

"Ah, Ms. Mason. It's good to see you're awake." The man said with a bright smile.

"Who are you?" Heather asked. The question was more authoritative and alarmed than she meant it to be.

"My name is Dr. Rory Smith. I'm a specialist here at Einsland Psychiatric." The man who had just introduced himself as Dr. Smith looked at her from behind his glasses, a look of nothing short of professionalism steeling his gaze and making him unreadable.

Heather could already tell that she wasn't going to like Smith. There was something about the way he carried himself that told her he wasn't a nice person, that he would do whatever it took to attain the desired results he wanted. He kind of reminded her of Claudia, nothing short of strictly doing his job and caring for nothing else that happen to revolve around it.

An impression that couldn't be replaced was left on Heather about this man. From the smugness of his demeanor, to the way he was dressed and even how his gaze seemed to linger on parts of her that it shouldn't. It made her skin crawl. He wasn't someone who should have been in this kind of practice, there was a darkness about him that felt more animalistic than some of the monsters she'd faced in Silent Hill.

"And why exactly am I at a psychiatric hospital?" She asked.

"Ms. Mason," He said with a slight grin. "Do you expect me to believe that you don't know why you're here? After the previous conversations we've had, I'd thought you would've figured that out by now."

"Our..._previous conversations?_" She questioned. She had no idea what he was talking about, she'd never even met the guy until just now. "But I don't even know you and I _don't_ know why I'm here, either."

Smith just let out a sigh, shaking his head as he scribbled something down on his clipboard.

"I suppose Dr. Kaufmann will be the one to evaluate you this time, since it's clear you do not wish to cooperate."

_Kaufmann?!_

Heather had no idea who that was, but figured that it must be another doctor. She didn't know why another doctor needed to be called into the room, it wasn't as if having another brought in was going to change anything. Nothing was making any sense! She needed to get out! Out, out, out, out! But the damn straps were holding her down, making her efforts to get free futile.

The door to the room opened once more and another man walked into the room. He was dressed much more casual than Smith, his hair gelled back and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed that she was looking at him. There was something about him that seemed familiar. As if Heather had met him before. Where exactly, she had no idea.

"Glad to see you're awake, Heather. I'll take over from here, if you don't mind Rory."

"No, not at all." Smith said sarcastically before leaving the room.

After Smith left the room, the new doctor that had sat down in the chair licked his lips in what she noticed to be a habitual manner before the soft clicking of his pen could be heard as he began to write down his own observational notes. He didn't bother looking up at her, his attention solely on his notes and what he was preparing to talk with her about.

"And you are?"

He smiled.

"My name is Michael Kaufmann, I'm the chief psychology examiner here at Einsland Psyche. You can call me Michael if you would like too." Before continuing, he glanced over at the window and then back to her. "So, Heather. I heard you say you don't remember why you're here."

She nodded.

"Yeah. I don't remember much, but I do know where I was right before waking up just now."

"I see." Michael nodded, writing down more notes as he urged her to continue on and so she did.

A moment before she was about to start speaking, Heather began to question exactly why she would want to talk to a complete stranger in the first place. She didn't know Kaufmann from squat, for all Heather knew he could easily be with the cult and was just trying to find out what she knew. But, if that were true wouldn't he already know what had happened? With how she felt, it was likely that quite some time had passed since then.

It would seem that for now she was going to have to play along with all of this, to outsmart the trickster.

It was going to be tough, but Heather was confident that she could pull it off.

She decided to start with telling him of how she'd been running through the theme park with Douglas, killing Valtiel, Claudia swallowing the fetus of the cult's so-called god that she herself had puked up and then waking up here. He seemed to be genuinely interested in what she was telling him, writing everything down as she spoke. It was a relief to know that at least someone in this place didn't think she was completely crazy, that he didn't think she was living in a fantasy world she had made up.

Then again, it never occurred to her that Michael Kaufmann could just be using this as a way to get her to talk about what had happened.

She was in a psychiatric hospital after all. There was no telling what they thought she had done, for all she knew, they could be trying to get a confession out of her for the deaths of Vincent and the others. No, it couldn't be. From what she'd learned from Smith, Heather had been in the hospital for a good while now. Which would explain why she had no recollection of anything prior to the final events that had taken place in Silent Hill.

"How do I know that I can trust you?"

"That is a good question," Michael sat the clipboard down and rubbed the bridge of his nose gingerly. "You can't really, its up to you whether or not to tell me what you feel is right from wrong and from there, I put the pieces together to make a final prognosis."

He was making a good point.

She didn't really have much of a choice on what she could and could not do, with being in a hospital and all. It was obvious that she was in here because someone had brought her to this place, thinking that the people at the hospital could help her. They would keep Heather as long as they saw fit, it looked to be out of her hands.

"So...you're here to just talk?"

"Yes, Ms. Mason." He said. "I want to help you bridge the gap that is separating what really happened from what you _think_ happened."

"But, I_ know_ what happened!" Heather argued.

"Then by all means, tell me."

She cut her eyes at him.

"What's the point? You'll just think I'm crazy like I'm sure that other guy does." Heather replied, turning her head away from Michael.

While she looked away from him, Kaufmann continued to talk to her about what had transpired with her about what she thought had happened.

He talked to her about the cops that found her lying in the middle of the road in the country just outside of Detroit, covered in blood and grime. They'd thought she was dead at first, but upon discovering that she was still alive, Heather had been taken to a hospital. It wasn't until a week later that they'd been able to identify her and had transferred her here to Einsland Psychiatric, where she'd been ever since.

From what Michael was telling her, all of this had been several months ago.

Strange, considering she had no prior memory of any of this stuff happening. When trying to remember, all Heather came across was a blank slate that made the headache she'd thought gone throb even worst. It was like someone or rather, something, didn't want her to remember what had happened.

She let out a sigh, not sure what to make of all this.

"Ms. Mason, I assure you that there is no need to feel pressured about what you need to say. Our conversations have always been confidential, no one else knows about the details of our discussions, I assure you."

Heather had trouble believing him. All her life, Heather's father had taught her to be wary of those she encountered, that they could be trying to get close to her for unknown reasons. Most times, she could tell when something wasn't right about someone, a strange aura that emanated from the person's body. She didn't feel a bad one coming from Michael Kaufmann. He was bright, a calm feeling that gave her a strong feeling of serenity.

"Do you think maybe I could have something to eat? I'm quite famished and would like to get out of these cuffs if you don't mind."

"I can have that arranged," Michael told her as he let out a chuckle. "However, you must understand that I will have security personnel present. Can't have you trying to escape from the facility now, can we?"

"Guess not." She agree'd.

"I'll be getting us a room while Randy comes in here to help you out of the room. Let's try to get somewhere with this, shall we? I'd really like to help you, Heather."

Standing up, Michael said his goodbyes and left her alone to her thoughts in the room as she laid there waiting for this guy named Randy to come help her out of her bed.

When the time came for them to continue their conversation, Heather was going to get some answers out of Michael. Something wasn't right. Things just weren't adding up, the pieces of the puzzle were out of order and she was slowly struggling to put them back into place. It was on the tip of her tongue, but, Heather couldn't quite find the words to form it.

Maybe he would have answers for her.

Regardless, she was going to find out one way or the other.


	2. Chp 2: Patient Evaluation

A/N: Many thanks go out to those who have looked at this story so far. Honestly, I didn't think this story would get as much hype as it did and when I found out I was wrong, well lets just say I was one happy guy. Also, I'd like to thank my friend Ygure for doing the wonderful coverart to this story for me. This chapter is told from Kaufmann's POV and will hopefully be able to give some insight on whether he actually believes her story or not.

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Chapter Two

Patient Evaluation

He sat in his office, looking over the observation notes that he'd taken while in the room with Heather and was trying to think of the best course of action to take. Never before in his twenty years of being a psychologist had Michael ever come across a case as peculiar or interesting as this one. The young woman in their care, she left him questioning everything that he believed in.

There was something strange about her, albeit he had no idea what it was, but he knew that he would find out eventually.

Shifting in his seat, Kaufmann chewed on the end of his pen as he thought of what they'd been discussing. She truly believed everything that she'd told him while he was in the room talking to her. The facade that her subconscious had put in place to hide from Heather what really had happened appalled him. It was going to be a hard wall to climb, but, he was sure that with the right counseling, she'd see the truth very soon.

Standing up, he walked over to where he kept the files on his patients at and opened up the correct drawer, thumbing through the folders and picking out the one he was looking for. Lying it on his desk, Michael began looking over it, hoping to find something, if anything, to help him.

Everything about Heather didn't add up. Her entire time at the hospital, she'd been very recluse. Not speaking a word until just now, like she was in her own little world and that no one else could reach her. For days after her arrival, the doctors had tried speaking with her. Placing her in group therapy, even locking her up in solitary, but, nothing had worked. And now here she was, talking like there was no tomorrow and babbling on about how she had no idea why she was a patient here.

From what he'd been told by several people who knew her on a personal level, Heather was very disrespectful. Doing whatever she wanted, when she wanted and didn't give a shit about what people thought.

It didn't sound much like the woman who he'd been trying to get through to for some time now. He figured that maybe she could be playing him, trying to make them think that nothing was wrong with her after coming off a drug binge. It just was a cautionary feeling that he had. Things needed to be assessed before deciding what needed to be done with her.

_Maybe if I were to just openly talk to her about it?_ He shook his head, throwing that idea right out the window. If she was trying to play him, he'd get nowhere by trying to push the matter at hand. He needed a tactical strategy.

Perhaps if he were to go along with her story for some time, have her open up to him about her version of what happened and then decide for himself the best course of action to take.

To be honest, there wasn't much else he could do.

"I'll play along, at least until I learn what I need from her, enough to prove whether or not she truly doesn't remember anything."

Sighing, he stood up from his desk and headed for the door. There were still many things that needed to be done and he was never one to slack off on his work.

Walking down the hallway, he passed by a pair of security guards who nodded at him in acknowledgement as he passed by them. Once he was past them, it was a straight shot to the lunch hall where Ms. Mason was waiting for him at.

As he was approaching the turn in the hallway, he was stopped as a woman came running after him.

"Mr. Kaufmann!" A young, red-haired woman said as she came to a stop just in front of him. Her name was Lisa Garland, a fairly new nurse who had just transfered to the hospital a few months ago. She was dressed in the standard blue scrubs, her face a slight shade of red from having chased after him.

"What is it, Ms. Garland?"

"I looked up that file on Ms. Mason like you asked me too, here it is." She told him, extending her arm to give him the folder which he took as they continued to walk.

"What's your opinion on it?"

"She seems...lost, void of reality and stubbornly not willing to accept what truly happened two months ago." She stopped as they reached the entrance to the lunch hall where Heather was at. "I find it best that you try to get her to open up, but not believe everything she tells you."

"I see." He let out a sigh before turning to face her. "Ms. Garland, I assure you that there is nothing the patient can do to convince me of what she says. All will be made clear in due time."

With that said, he opened the door and stepped into the lunch hall. It wasn't anything to special, a few round tables sat clustered off to the corner on the right and several others ran the length of the room where the patients sat at during their lunch hour. Next to the staff tables sat a drink and snack machine, currently being restocked.

Sitting at a table, Heather was talking with one of the nurses who seemed to be laughing at something the two were sharing. The young girl looked right at home, as if she wasn't even aware of where she was at and just having a good time with an old friend. The plate sitting in front of her was empty, the young woman having wasted no time scarfing down the food given to her.

"Am I interupting anything?" He asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down with the two women.

"Oh," The nurse said as she looked over at Kaufmann with unease. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll leave so you two can talk."

After the nurse left, Heather looks over at him and didn't look to pleased with how he had just interupted their conversation.

"You sure do know how to make an entrance." Heather said with a smile, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back in her char.

He grinned.

"Yes, my mother use to tell me that all the time when I was a kid."

Placing the folder in front of them on the table, he gave her a minute to look from him and to the folder before she picked it up. Flipping through the pages, Kaufmann noted how she reacted to seeing each page, taking in every detail of the report they had on her. It was nothing she didn't already know, or at least he assumed she knew.

"What the hell!" She looked over at him, fire burning behind her eyes. "What is this bullshit? I've never been to Colorado before, nor have I ever done drugs in my life!"

"Calm down, Ms. Mason, I'm going to talk with you about all of this."

She gave him an impatient look, obviously not buying into whatever she thought he was going to tell her. There was nothing he could say to her that would change anything on the report he'd just shown her. It was concrete. Judging from the look on Heather's face, there was a lot of explaining that needed to be done.

"Let's start with your father..." Michael knew this one was going to be a pain to talk with her about. "You should probably be told about this before you speak with the cops tomorrow."

"Know what?" She asked.

"About what happened to him."

Her reaction was something he'd been expecting, like there was a noose wrapped around her neck and she was waiting to see how tightly the executioner was going to make it.

"Oh, my father..." Heather looked away. "You mean when that bitch Claudia murdered him in our apartment and then left like the coward that she was?"

"Excuse me?" He cuffed his fingers together and leaned forward, appalled by what she had just explained to him. "Ms. Mason, your father died eighteen years ago, in a carwreck when you were only six years old. Where do you get the idea that he was murdered by a woman named Claudia?"

That set fire to the trees. The look she gave him when he was done, Michael was sure that she was ready to go off on him and have another one of her fits.

"T-That's...impossible..." The look of anger quickly passed over, turning to shock of the revelations of what he'd just told her.

The facts were impossible to deny. It was all right there in the report in front of her about her medical history, the only person she was fooling now was herself. What remained left now was for her to slowly accept what he was telling her. To cast off the denial of the trauma she'd experienced as a child and own up to everything that was happening to her.

It was like every other case he'd ever been involved in when a patient of his had experienced trauma from their childhood. They always grew up to be irrational troublemakers, causing trouble to society and most likely ending up in prison or dead by the time they were thirty. The fact that Ms. Mason was walking down that path, yet she herself not knowing she was, it made him wonder what else had happened to her in her life to make her this way.

"My father was killed several hours before I set out to Silent Hill. It was there that I confronted Claudia about what happened."

He decided to play along, let her tell him what she thought was reality.

"And Claudia is?"

"Claudia Wolf. She was a member of the cult called "The Order". They worship a false god named Valtiel, whom I was chosen to give birth to." It was hard for her to remember most of what had happened, her memories were jumbled up, making it difficult to pick which were the correct ones. "She..killed Vincent, I puked up the fetus and then...I can't remember."

He wasn't so sure that he was buying what she was telling him. It was all a little to farfetched for Michael, but, he figured that there was a time when someone of his profession had to take a leap of faith and just go with it. What she was telling him, it sounded like a Marilyn Manson movie that his niece had told him about once.

"Ms. Mason," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. "Do you not understand that we have documented proof of what I'm telling you. Everything that you're telling me doesn't make sense, it sounds like you're having trouble accepting reality. We can help you with this...just work with me."

"No! You're wrong!" She screamed, standing up and throwing her chair backwards as she slammed her hands down on the table and leaned over to him. "I know what I saw Dr. Kaufmann, what I did and there is _nothing_ you could do to make me forget it. It's imprinted in my memory...the sight of my father's corpse. Bloodied and destroyed by an abomination that should only exist in movies."

She went silent after that, looking down at her hands in remourse before collecting her chair and sitting back down.

It was sad. How she couldn't bring herself back from how far down the rabbit hole she had traveled, Heather was like Alice lost in wonderland. Unable to realize that the whole ride was nothing but a dream that she would wake up from when she finally reached a realization. It was becoming quite frustrating for him to go through this journey with her, she refused to listen to any reason.

"Let's just keep going, tell me more about what happened after your father was murdered by the monster." He urged her.

"Well," Heather sighed. "After I killed the monster, Detective Cartland and I left for Silent Hill. There we traveled throughout the town until we found our way to the amusement park, I faught what I think was a mirror image of myself, or at least I think it was."

While she continued to explain what had happened during the events after going to Silent Hill, Michael began to think of what he was going to do about her denial. He was going to have to take drastic measures with her, something never before done with any of his patients. It was against everything he'd been taught in school, but, he saw no other way.

Perhaps his plan to show her proof that everything she thought she knew was a lie was the best course of action after all, she would be able to see through the smoke and mirrors she'd created.

Maybe he could take her to where the location of this town was at?

_Then she could see for herself!_ Yes, that was a very good idea. There would be no denying it any longer once she saw that this place called "Silent Hill" never even existed.

"How about this," Michael said after Heather was finished with the rest of her story. "Lets say I were to take you to where this place is located at and show you that it doesn't exist. Would you own up and admit that you aren't meantally able to think for yourself and see a professional?"

"Yes, I will." She told him with a smile. "And when I prove to you that Silent Hill does exist, you're going to let me go? I won't have to stay in this place any longer?"

He nodded.

"Okay, let's go then."


	3. Chp 3: Return to Silent Hill

A/N: Wasn't done in any of the other chapters, so, I'd like to thank my friend Ygure from DeviantArt for supplying me with the cover art for this story. That girl has got some serious talent with pictures. If you're a fan of Heather Mason or Silent Hill in general, go check out some of her work on the site.

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Chapter Three

Return to Silent Hill

It hadn't taken them long to get out on the road, hitting the back roads in the country to avoid being seen by any of the staff members who may be in the near by town as they drove through. One gas station later and they were prepared for the road that laid ahead. Heather had her doubts about this, but Kaufmann seemed so sure of what he was doing, that she had let him do what he thought was best.

When he'd first told her that they were heading out to Silent Hill, Heather hadn't believed a word he'd said. The man would have to be insane himself to want to do something such as that. He'd proved her wrong. Just an hour later they were out on the highway, leaving behind the hospital and speeding down the street.

They'd left in such a hurry that she just did have enough time to get changed out of the solid white clothing she'd been wearing. Nothing to special, just some blue jeans, a brown jacket over a white blouse and some sneakers. He'd been kind enough to steal some clothes out of one of the nurses lockers for her. A lot better than having to walk around in what she'd been wearing, that much was true.

Right now, they were driving down the interstate, passing by cars and signs that told them they were coming up on several exits. On either side of them trees lined the highway, leaves scattered in the wind with a sure sign of winter fast approaching. The passenger window had begun to fog up from her hot breath, Heather drew in it to pass the time and even fiddled with the radio some, trying to find anything good on a station. She didn't find anything worth listening to, the only thing on was quite depressing to her.

"Everything, okay?" Heather looked to her left at Kaufmann, his focus was kept on the road, but she knew he'd been monitoring her for the last ten minutes.

"I'm fine."

She wished that Kaufmann would quit asking her that, as if she didn't already have enough problems without him constantly asking her if she was okay. Things were far from okay, but she just didn't feel like discussing them with him at the moment.

It had never occurred to her until now whether or not going back to Silent Hill was such a good idea. She had no idea what was going to happen this time and Heather didn't want to bring Kaufmann into it just because she wanted to prove to him that she wasn't crazy. He'd become just another casualty in the fight against The Order if there were still others alive like Claudia. She didn't think she could handle encountering another megalomaniac like Claudia Wolf, trying to change the world as they saw fit.

"Heather," There was emotion in his voice that she hadn't heard before from someone other than her father and Douglas. Genuine concern for what was going to happen to someone, regardless of how little or how much they knew about the person. "You can talk to me about it, whatever it is. I promise you that I'll do everything I can to help you."

In truth, there was nothing that he could do to help her.

Rather than discuss how she was feeling with him, Heather just turned her head off and stared out the window. Overhead a storm had begun to develop, the sky overcast with gray clouds that signified a storm would soon be approaching them. If there was something that could make this even worse than it already was, it was an approaching storm.

Several hours later, Heather was yawning softly and staring out at the rain as it poured down from the sky. Maybe it was the current state of mind that she was in, but, Heather was certain that it hadn't taken this long to get to Silent Hill last time when she'd gone with Douglas. Perhaps the hospital had been further from Maine than she'd initially thought.

They'd stopped at a dinner along the way and had had lunch together. Micheal's treat is what he'd told her. Something to hold them over while they made their trip to the northern part of Maine. Although Heather had been less than enthusiastic about food, instead just running a spoon through the soup she'd ordered in the hopes that she could get her mind off of what was coming.

The drive so far had been quiet between the two occupants of the vehicle. Once Michael had learned that she wasn't going to be sharing anything with him, he'd decided to focus on driving. Eventually the traffic had died down, not a single vehicle had been on the road with them for the last hour. This worried her, if something were to happen to them it could be hours before anyone came upon them.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered, her gaze staying on the view outside the window.

"For what?" He was confused to why she was apologizing, she hadn't done anything wrong. "You've done nothing wrong."

"You're trying to help me and for the last seven hours I've been acting like a complete bitch to you," Her head turned, their gazes meeting for a second. " I shouldn't be doing that, its wrong of me."

Heather would've blamed it on always being cautious of others from being on the run her entire life, but, it would be childish of her to do so. She was an adult now. Enough with the excuses. From now on, she needed to own up to what she did when she was in the wrong.

"No ones perfect, Heather. I certainly ain't, that much is true."

She smiled.

"Yeah, same here."

It felt nice to open up to someone after keeping herself emotionally guarded for such a long time. Relief washed over Heather. A dam of tension being released all at once and leaving her feeling more at ease in what she had to guess had been her entire life.

"Its just," She let out a sigh before continuing. "My entire life, I've been on the run from people, who, up until a month ago, I knew nothing about. I was taught not to trust anyone but my father and now that he's gone, its just hard to open up to others."

"I understand."

Heather looked at him confused.

She'd been expecting him to say something witty to try and cheer her up like any other male would normally do, but he'd taken her by surprise. Maybe he wasn't just some psychiatrist out to prove that he was right after all.

"Believe it or not, my father was never in my life when I was a kid. He was a doctor who always stayed out on call, leaving me to be raised by my mother who did what she could with me and my sister."

It looked like she wasn't the only one with dad problems after all. She could relate to some of what Michael was saying, with slight differences of course. Heather could only imagine what life would have been like for her had she'd been without her dad the same way that he'd been, perhaps she wouldn't be the woman that she was today.

"My mother died when I was a baby, some kind of disease." She turned to stare out the window before continuing. "Dad didn't talk about her much when I was growing up, I guess it was his way of dealing with what had happened."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged.

"Its fine, I just wish that I would've met her."

Thinking about her mother brought about tears, she used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe them away and then tried to hide it from Michael. She let out a sigh, a soft giggle escaping at how easily emotional she had allowed herself to become. It got a smile from Michael, so Heather figured that she could let it slide for just this one time.

"What the hell?" Michael said as they crossed a bridge, heading straight into a fog so thick, that not even the high beams could cut through it. It was one of those fogs that when it rolled in, it covered everything and made it impossible for you to see through it, no matter how hard you try.

It reminded her suspiciously of the fog that she'd walked through during her first stay in Silent Hill. From afar, Heather hadn't been able to see anything as she walked the streets of the town. What had awaited her in the syrup-like fog was horrors beyond what she could imagine, nightmares such as that would've only existed in the deepest pits of hell. Now here she was, going right back to the very place she would've been running away from.

That's when she saw it, the outline of a figure moving through the fog just up ahead of them. She shouted at Michael, grabbing his attention just as they were coming right up to where the shadowed figure was at. Michael slammed down on the brakes. They locked up, a loud screeching noise erupted as the pads ground against metal and they skidded across the road at a sharp right angle.

His knuckles turned white, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he fought for control of the vehicle. In the passenger seat, Heather had braced herself for the inevitable impact that she knew was coming. She shut her eyes tightly, covering her head with her arms to shield herself from any brain damage that could result from what was about to happen.

The car flipped onto its side, metal crushing as it rolled several times across the pavement and smashing up the cars frame. The windshield shattered, shards of glass littering the inside of the car and cutting into both of them. Both of them were thrown around the interior of the car like crash dummies, the only thing saving them from being thrown from the vehicle like rag dolls were the seat belts that they both wore.

Continuing its roll, the car smashed into the side railing and ripped through the metal of the frame, then rolling down the hill to where it settled against a tree. Debris littered the embankment, the passengers side door had been ripped from its hinge, the roof was ripped clean off and the two back tires were missing. Smoke began rising out of the hood, signs that a fire would soon start and engulf the two unconscious passengers within.

Off to the left there was a sign lit up by lamps that sat right beneath it.

In bright, bold words it read: WELCOME TO SILENT HILL.


	4. Chp 4: Alone in the Fog

A/N: We're back with another exciting chapter. Also, I'd like to point out for in case anyone hasn't noticed yet, the Michael Kaufmann in this story is the originals son. So, yeah, I just wanted to clear that up in case anyone got that confused. This chapter will focus entirely on Heather and will finally start to add some action to the story. I know a lot of you have been patiently waiting for that, so lets get this story rolling!

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Chapter Four

Alone in the Fog

The first thing that let Heather know she was still alive was the sharp breath of air that filled her lungs as she shot up straight from where she was lying at. Her heart hammered in her chest. Eyes darted from left to right, her vision clearing to show that she was sitting out in the open. Upon further inspection, Heather also noticed that she'd woken up on a bench, which was strange, she didn't remember lying down on the bench.

Looking around where she was at, Heather noticed right away how foggy it was. It was impossible for her to make out anything in the distance. She could barely see a foot in front of her, the blurry outlines of the buildings noticeable once she took in their structure.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to collect her thoughts and remember where she was. She remembered driving down the interstate with Michael Kaufmann, taking him to where Silent Hill was to prove that she wasn't crazy. The two of them had actually been getting acquainted during the drive and had more in common than what she'd thought.

That's when it hit her.

_The wreck!_ She remembered them driving down the road and then the fog had rolled in. A shadowed figure had stood in the middle of the road, she'd alerted him to the figure and then Michael had tried to direct the car out of the path of the person. It had caused them to wreck. The car throwing the two of them around in the cabin like rag dolls as it rolled across the pavement, Heather was lucky it hadn't killed her.

More so than how she'd managed to survive the wreck, Heather was more worried with how she had ended up in town.

Had someone brought her here?

And where the hell was Michael at?

She checked herself over, curious as to why she wasn't feeling sore from the wreck. There had to be at least a few cuts somewhere on her body, but as she lifted her shirt to look, Heather found not a single wound. How was this possible? If anything, she should at least have a concussion if anything. Patting her legs down, she felt no pain, nothing at all. She was completely unscathed.

"So where am I?".

Was it possible that Heather had been drawn back into the town? The fog around her did make her feel as if she was back in Silent Hill, but, she wasn't sure yet.

Walking down the street slowly, she kept an eye out for any suspicious activity or movement. She remembered what had been awaiting her in the fog the last time she was here. Those abominations had tormented her for hours, chasing her through the fog and the darkness of the other-world. It made her feel uneasy. At any moment one of those monsters could jump out at her.

The town looked as abandoned as it had last time. At intervals throughout the streets there were cars broken down, years of rust having ate away at their metal frames and no longer fit to run. Cracks ran the length of the paved streets, spidering throughout the road and disappearing into the fog. Run down buildings ran down the length of the side walk. The windows were boarded up, closed signs hanging over the doorknob and blowing in the soft wind.

Up ahead, she could make out what looked to be a convenient store. The door was hanging open, like someone had been in a hurry when leaving and hadn't bothered closing the door. What was even stranger was that it wasn't closed like this others. This aroused curiosity in Heather, she made her way over to the store and decided to take a look inside to see if maybe someone was there.

Stepping inside, she almost jumped out of her skin as the door closed behind her and one of those old fashioned bells rang out from above. For several minutes Heather stood there, waiting for her heart to slow down. She looked around the stores for any signs of life, noting just now filthy the place looked. The isles were littered with items long past their prime and as she ran a finger along the counter, she carried with her a thick layer of dust.

On the other side of the counter, there was an old-fashion jukebox displayed openly. Tools were laid out on an aging table next to it, someone had been working on it right before what had happened in the town all those years ago had taken place. Picking up one of the records, Heather blowed off the dust and looked at it. It was an original record from when Elvis had first debuted, her father would've liked this, he had been a huge Elvis fan when he was her age. Smiling, she laid it down on the counter, deciding to check out the rest of the store.

Walking towards the back of the store, Heather passed by the coolers where the drinks would normally be at and stopped when she noticed something strange. Peering into the cooler at the end, she noticed that there was an old picture frame sitting at the bottom. Using a finger to wipe away the smudge, she saw that it was a picture of a young girl in an old-fashioned purple school uniform. The young girl looked familiar, as if she had seen her from somewhere before.

Heather couldn't quite place it, it was on the tip of her thought, but she was having trouble remembering who it was she was thinking of. Looking at the picture further, she noticed that there were several resemblances between the girl in this picture and herself when she was younger. There were some slight differences. Her hair was brown, the same as hers had been until she'd began dying it several years ago and her eyes, a natural blue, were unlike Heather's hazel ones.

Was this Heather in her past life as Alessa?

Staring at the picture for a few more seconds, she looked up briefly and saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Wait!" Heather shouted as she ran through the store, towards the front door. There was the flutter of a dress, heels clacking across wood and a shimmer of purple as the figure ran out the door.

Her shoes pounding across the wooden floor, Heather threw open the door and ran out into the street. Looking around, she tried to locate the person through the dense fog. To her left, she could make out the outline of a person as they disappeared into the shadows.

She ran in the direction it had disappeared into.

Running down the sidewalk, she cut across the street and past an old restaurant that was starting to fall apart. There was a rattle to her right, a shadow moved across the fence next to her and the wood suddenly exploded, a fierce roar erupting from the throat of a beastial monster. She flew backwards, slamming onto the pavement and rolling several feet away.

Letting out a weak moan, Heather slowly got up as the monster made its way over to where she was lying at. It shook the ground with each menacing step it took, another roar cutting through the air and forcing her to cover her ears from how close she was to it.

The creature looked almost feminine in form, its entire face resembling a large pair of full lips and oddly enough, was wearing a mini-skirt. Its arms were thick, large enough to crush a person in one swift blow if it were to get close enough. Fluids drippled down from its lips, spilling onto the pavement in a puddle. Its skin was pale, warped from disease with puss oozing from small cuts that decorated its entire body.

Stomping forward, the monster brought one of its large arms down and smashed into the pavement at Heathers feet. Stumbling backwards, Heather dove to the right as the monster swung its other arm at her and smashed through the brick of the restaurant behind her. It gave chase as she began to run, a slow gait that carried it forward and no matter how fast she ran, it seemed to be able to keep up with her.

Lungs burning, she turned the corner and was about to start sprinting faster when she suddenly came to a screaming halt. The road suddenly ended right in front of her, a giant gaping hole in its place. It was like someone had suddenly taken up a large section of the ground and had made a bottomless pit out of it.

_What the hell am I going to do now!?_ That thing was right behind her, probably blocking off her only escape route and then she was really going to be in deep shit.

Behind her, the monster let out a roar as it bounded around the corner of the street. It slammed into the side of the building, debris flying and showering down on her. When it heard her, its head swung to look at her, a slurping, wet smacking sound came from its mouth and then it charged at her.

Waiting for the right moment, Heather suddenly dove to the right as the monster charged her and slammed down against some rocks, abbrating her hands pretty badly. Ignoring the pain, she got to her feet and ran to the edge to watch as the monster fell down into the bottomless pit, its hellish roar following it down.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she laid there for a minute in the dirt, trying to catch her breath from what had just happened. Heather had come mere inches to being killed by that thing, if she hadn't of thought so hastily, things would not be looking so good for her. She needed to be careful. Luck wouldn't be there to save her every single time.

Standing up, she brushed off the dirt from her jacket and stared down at her hands. They were sore and hurt when she touched them. Likely scars would be left behind, but that was the least of her worries right now.

To her right there was a small house with a porch, Heather decided to take a moment to collect her thoughts and figure out exactly what she was going to do.

First thing she needed to do was try and find someone that could help her, preferably someone who wasn't affiliated with The Order. The only problem with that was that she had no idea who else might be in the town. Last time she'd been here, the only person with her had been Douglas and then she'd met Vincent while searching through the town. Although not a person she much cared for, Vincent had tried to help her and, well, his help would've been appreciated right now.

It seemed like before that the town wasn't going to let her leave until she reached some sort of revelation as Heather had last time upon discovering her true origins and then killing the monster that the fetus had become. This time, Heather wasn't so sure what needed to be done. She had thought her experience in Silent Hill to be over, but it would appear that she'd been wrong.

Reaching into her pocket, Heather pulled out the photo of Alessa that she'd found inside the store and stared at it.

Something about the picture was trying to speak to her, she flipped it over and looked on the back of the aged photo. On the back of the picture was a note that someone had written down, it was barely noticeable, but Heather was able to make it out: _**Alessa Gillespie, 1974. Midwich Elementary.**_

_Midwich Elementary? Where have I heard that name before?_

It did sound familiar to her, but Heather wasn't sure if it was her remembering it or if it was a memory from her past life as Alessa. Was Alessa trying to tell her something? Seemed likely, maybe it would be best for her to go check out the school. Maybe she'd even come across something that would be of some relative use to her.

The first thing she needed to do however, was find out where she was at in the city. If there was one thing her last time in Silent Hill had taught her, it was that the town was huge.

You could get lost if you didn't know the area well.

Across the street from her, Heather noticed that there was a brick wall that ran the length on that side of the street. Hanging on the wall was what looked to be a picture and as she got closer, she noticed that it was a map of the area that she was in. It gave clear details of where she was, showing other areas in the town like a school, the hospital and even a church.

From what the map was telling her, it looked as if she was currently on Bradbury street. That meant that she wasn't that far from where the school was at, maybe she could go check it out and see if they had any working phones while she was at it.

Jogging at a brisk pace, Heather made sure to keep an eye out for any more of those things. It was quite a lengthy journey from where she was at and to the school, hopefully she wouldn't have to encounter anything if she could help it.

The town looked a bit different from what she remembered it having been last time Heather was here. Instead of the broken down shops like every street held before, all she saw was suburbs. Houses lined the sidewalks on either side of her. Shaded in different colors. Some were even two-story and had a porch that looped around to the side of the house. If it weren't for the creepy fog and the nightmarish creatures lurking in the darkness, Heather would've thought this to be a nice place to live.

At the end of the row of houses to her left, there was an old bakery with a foreclosure sign hanging in the window. It looked out of place amongst the houses that towered on either side of it. She also noticed that there was a small rocking chair gently rocking back and forth, an eery creaking sound came from it and sent a chill down her spine. There was also an old-fashioned radio sitting at the foot of the chairs, a tiny sound of static coming from it, so Heather decided to see if maybe she could find someone inside the store.

Picking up the radio, she checked to see if it was working good as she glanced inside of the store. Like the convenient store, this place was just as deserted. Heather found it strange that this radio would be left out here and that it was in working order when everything else wasn't.

That's when she heard a short burst of static, followed by a garbled message.

_**"If...ou...an...ea...this. Heat..her...'m...at the...waiting for you."**_

That sounded like a man's voice and whoever it was knew who she was.

Whoever it was also knew that she was in the town. That meant that the only person it could be was Michael, Heather hadn't heard much of what he'd said, but she was sure that he was going to be waiting for her somewhere.

Still, Heather couldn't help but feel drawn to the school that was just a few yards ahead of her. She could go check out the school and then decide on how she was going to find Michael, but if only things were as simple as that. It would be stupid of her to pass up an opportunity to meet up with someone who could help her, but, Heather's mind was set.

With a determined deep breath, she started towards the school.

* * *

The highway was deserted. Not a single vehicle in sight as Lisa Garland drove down the winding back roads, wondering exactly why she was even doing this in the first place. She should've never agreed to this. How could she have been so naive? At least the road was clear. If there was one thing she liked about taking the back roads, it was the guarantee that you would be able to get to your destination in no time at all.

Now here she was, out looking for the two of them in the middle of nowhere.

When she was approached by Rory an hour ago, Lisa had thought that she was going to be helping Dr. Kaufmann keep an eye on Heather Mason, not literally be sent out to look for them. This wasn't what she'd signed up for when becoming a nurse at the hospital, she would definitely be reporting them to the owner once she got back from where ever it was that that asshole had sent her.

"So, when are we getting there?" Her passenger asked as he fiddled with the dial of the car's radio. Her boyfriend, Kevin Allers, had decided to tag along with her after having come to pick her up from her shift at the clinic before Lisa had found out her latest assignment. Although she'd been against him coming at first, she did enjoy the fact that she wasn't out here alone.

"A few more miles, I hope."

"Good," He said lazily. "Because I sure could use a smoke."

Lisa just smiled, keeping her focus on the road.

"You and me both, babe."


	5. Chp 5: Ghost Town

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has been helping out with this story, you guys are amazing! This chapter switches from Heather and is set an hour before she wakes up, detailing how Michael got to Silent Hill from the accident on the interstate. A lot of you I'm sure noticed that the story has begun to quick up quite a fast pace. The reason for this is because I want it to have a realistic feel and I didn't want to drag out anything, ending up doing nothing but boring you guys with details.

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Chapter Five

Ghost Town

The scent of smoke was the first thing he noticed as he began to stir. The smoke assaulted his senses and cut off his air, forcing him into a coughing fit as his chest began to burn from the carbon dioxide that was starting to fill his lungs. His head was spinning. A ringing sound filled his ears, causing Michael to become confused as to what exactly was happening. Eyes watering from the smoke, he let out a weak moan as he rested his head back against the seat.

Opening his eyes, Michael looked from left to right, shaking his head and blinking his eyes to wake himself from his daze. All he could see was the pavement displayed from the shattered front window of his car. He reached out and placed his his hand on the cool road, grateful to know that it wasn't just a trick of the mind. Most likely he had a concussion, but he'd wait until he was safely out of the car before determining that. Trying to sit up, Michael felt no movement in his legs and panicking, glanced down to see with relief that his legs had been pinned beneath the steering wheel.

Suddenly, Michael was struck with the events of what had happened.

_The wreck!_

He glanced around, remembering that there had been someone with him. One of his patients from the hospital and looking over to the passenger seat, Michael saw that it was empty. The door was hanging open and the window had been busted out.

Pushing against the seat, he tried to stand up, but felt a sharp pain in his legs. He could feel his legs, and nothing felt broken, so at least he wasn't injured that he could tell. Biting down on his lip, he managed to pull himself free of the steering wheel and pushed open the car door, stumbling out onto the pavement. Shards of glass cut into his hands as he pushed himself to his feet, and just as quickly as he'd stood up, Michael was back on his knee's. He felt dizzy, his balance thrown off by his mind still trying to catch up with him.

Doing a once over of himself, Michael found that he hadn't sustained much injuries. Say for a small gash on the side of his head from where he'd more than likely had smacked against the roof of the car and soreness that would be with him for weeks, he was fine. Thinking about all of the things that would've happened to him, he was just thankful that it hadn't been worse.

Looking around the area that he was in, he saw that the area was covered in a dense fog. Off to his right, he thought he could make out what looked to be a huge billboard sign, but, he couldn't make out what it said.

"I'd better get into town, find a phone and call the clinic." Even though Michael had no idea where Heather was, the best thing he could do right now was get into town and get into contact with Rory. The last thing they needed was a mentally unstable patient wandering around the county. Just thinking of what could happen while she was alone, well, Michael didn't even want to imagine what would happen.

Starting down the highway, he had to walk with a limp as to not agitate the injury to his leg. The fog that rolled in from every direction, misting on the ground around his ankles and shrouded him from being able to see no more than a few yards ahead of himself. It made it difficult for him to walk. The best he could hope for was a smooth surface, no debris littering the road for him to trip on.

On either side of him, the fog had begun to flow through the tree's. Cropping up and giving it a look that you'd see from an old black n' white movie. It made Michael feel as if he'd been sucked right into one of those old classic cult films where the lone person went out to search for help. Only instead of finding help, the person would end up getting themselves killed by whatever might be stalking them. Just another one of his silly thoughts though, nothing more than his own imagination trying to get the best of him. He wouldn't let it get to him if he could help it though.

Up ahead Michael thought he could make out what looked to be an overturned SUV in the ditch. It's right side was smashed up from where it had rolled across the road, the door hanging limply on its hinges as it swayed in the breeze.

There was something familiar about it. He couldn't quite place it, but Michael was sure that he'd seen the vehicle at the clinic on occasion. Maybe it was just a coincidence, there had to be thousands, if not millions, of SUV's around the world. Either way, he should at least check and see if maybe there was anyone alive inside that could use his help.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" There was no reply as he approached the vehicle. The likelihood was that if there hadn't been any fatalities, they would've hiked to town.

Poking his head in through the side with the bent door, Michael saw that the vehicle indeed was empty. Miscellaneous junk was scattered across the dashboard and floorboard, clearly someone didn't take care of their vehicle like they were suppose to. He noticed that the keys were still in the ignition, but doubted that it would even turn and even if it did, the vehicle was totaled, so it wouldn't be getting him anywhere.

"Just great."

He sighed, trying to think of what to do.

_Better keep heading to town, whoever was involved in this wreck doesn't need my help and I have a civic responsibility._

Stepping away from the wrecked vehicle, he made his way back up onto the pavement and then continued back down the highway.

It took longer than what he'd thought it would, but, he eventually made it to the town.

Now he could find the local police and get them out there looking for Heather. All he could hope for was that nothing had happened to her or that she hadn't had one of her episodes, but in the event that something like that would happen, he was going to have to be prepared for it. Being in a local area, the cops here would have jurisdiction over the case and then there would be nothing that he could do for her.

In the first few blocks, he'd thought that maybe it was because of how late in the evening it was, but, after another two, Michael was unsettled. He couldn't fathom an excuse for the absence of citizens in the streets, particularly when there were several vehicles parked along the sides of the street. If memory served correct, there was suppose to be a local harvest festival taking place and that could explain the reason for why there was no one in the immediate area.

Then again, that wouldn't explain the reason behind why the shops appeared to be old, gathering thick layers of dust. At every window panel he passed, staring inside wielded nothing but empty results of where to find someone he could talk to. There was definitely something strange about this town that he didn't like. Where the hell was everybody? Why were all the stores closed down and looked as if they hadn't been opened in decades?

At the corner of the street, there was one of those old fashioned diners that you'd see in the old sixties movies. Its lights were dimmed. A fluorescent sign hanging in the window said that they were open, blinking on and off to welcome customers in from the cold afternoon air. There were several random vehicles sitting in the parking lot outside and there was one unoccupied police cruiser sitting right outside the diner, the driver side door ajar and the lights flashing above it. Someone had to be inside, maybe they could tell him what was going on in this town and why it appeared to be deserted.

Upon entering the restaurant Michael found this hope squandered, the old furniture and dusty interior creating an unsettling atmosphere that made him feel truly alone for the first time since he'd woken up in the car. Several bottles and glasses lined the counter that stretched all the way around to the left, ending at the wall on the other side. Food long past its expiration date had flies buzzing around it, the sandwiches bread having long since turned a dark color with fuzz collecting on the crust. In the back where the kitchen was at, a bulb was flickering on and off, the faintest hint of grease floating in the air from the deep fryers. He scrutinized the foul smelling food, a look of disgust crossing his face.

"Is there even _anyone_ in this town?!" He whispered darkly, the tone of his voice reflecting the look of disgust etched on his face.

A loud crashing noise echoed from the direction that the kitchen was at, the sound of silverware clattering to the floor, dishes smashing and shards of porcelain flying in all direction. Michael's head turned in that direction, listening for any signs of movement as his heart hammered in his chest. Seconds turned into minutes as he stood there, eventually decided to investigate as he made his way towards the entrance to the kitchen.

"Is there anybody back there?" Michael called out as he walked around a mob bucket that had been turned out. The murky water had since dried up, leaving behind a dark stain on the tile floor behind the counter. Walking into the kitchen, porcelain crunched beneath his shoes and silverware was pushed aside. Off to her left, the stove was covered with aged rust and the pots were overflowing with a dark liquid that he figured was the source of the grease smell from out in the dining area.

He looked around for any signs that someone had been in the kitchen moments before, but other than the clutter of broken dishes and silverware on the floor, he saw nothing. It made him feel on edge, his palms becoming sweaty, the sudden encroaching feeling of the walls closing in on him as he felt a lump form in his throat. Eyes darted around, searching the darkness of the restaurant as he reentered the dining room.

At that instance, the bell above the front door rang as the door swung open. The sound of boots on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the silent room, Michael hid behind the row of booths to the right of the unknown figure as they walked forward, their steps deliberate and careful to make as minimal noise as possible.

He tried to keep his breathing quiet, but found it hard to do so with his heart hammering as loud as it was. There was no way to know if the person walking around was going to hurt him or not, and he definitely didn't want to take any chances with how deserted the town was. But then, what if it was someone who could help him? He didn't want to pass on the opportunity of someone being able to help him. Cursing himself for what he was doing, he peered over the top of the last booth and saw that it was a woman.

She looked to be no older than Heather, her black hair was tied into a tight ponytail and dark eyes that intimately scanned the dark room. Her attire was reminiscent of the officers from the nearby town of Brahms, he recognized it from when they brought up transfer patients to the clinic. In her hands clasped tightly was a pistol, she held it in front of her, sweeping the room to check for any threats to her life.

Taking a step backwards in preparation to make a run for the back door, Michael slipped and fell against a set of cups that went smashing to the floor.

The young police officer whipped her gun towards the source of the noise. "Show yourself or I _will_ fire!"

"Please, don't shoot!" He slowly stood up, holding his hands above his head to show that he wasn't a threat.

"Who are you!?"

"My name is Michael Kaufmann, look, I'm not going to hurt you so there really is no need for that."

She glanced from him and then to her gun for a brief second before slipping it into the holster on her belt.

"Is that your wrecked SUV outside of town?" She asked, standing her ground in case he tried anything. Not that he planned to though.

He shook his head.

"No, but I did wreck my car a bit further down from it."

"What happened?" She asked.

"Something ran out in front of the car," He tried to recall what had happened. "All I remember is the sound of crunching glass as I passed out."

"My name is Bailey, by the way." The cop introduced herself. "_Officer_ Bailey Bennett."

It was nice to finally have someone with him. Ever since he'd gotten into town, Michael was sure that he was the only person here. It still confused him as to why the place was such a ghost town, and where the hell everyone had disappeared to.

Bailey sat down on one of the stools, staring at one of the bottle's with mild interest before turning to look at him. "So, do you know whats going on in this town? When I got called up to Silent Hill, I was expecting there to already been an internal investigation. Instead, I get a fucking ghost town."

"Did you just say _Silent Hill_?" He asked. Maybe he'd heard her wrong, the adrenaline he'd been riding since waking up making him misinterpret what she had nodded. "Yes, that's the name of this town. Why?"

This couldn't be right. Surely he'd taken a bump on the head, there was no way what Bailey was telling him was true. He'd searched the internet an hour before setting out with Heather to see if such a place existed and he'd found nothing. Not a single article. Or even an old listing for the town, if it had ever existed.

"You're joking," He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure. "There is no possible way this place can be Silent Hill, there's just no way."

Raising a brow, Bailey reached into the inside pocket of her windbreaker and tossed him a thick wad of paper. Unwrapping it he saw that it was in fact a map of the local area and that in bold words at the top, it confirmed his fears. Silent Hill really did exist and they were here.

He sat down, taking all of this in at once.

Now that he knew that Heather hadn't been lying about the town, whose to say what else she'd told him wasn't true after all?

No, there's no way any of this could be real. Anyone could print out a map and give it a false name if they knew the right person. For all he knew, Bailey probably wasn't even a cop. She could be a cohort in the scheme that Heather was trying to play Michael with to get him to believe her. There was no way he was going to fall for their lies. He was a psychiatrist for god sake, he should know better than to believe anything that was thrown at him while in the company of any of them.

"Well, look." Bailey said as she started walking towards the entrance of the diner. "I'm going to go check out the hospital down the block, if you want to come with me, you're more than welcome to. Maybe it would be best if we stayed together."

He was apprehensive of what to say.

"You're right, it would probably be for the best." He told her.

Michael didn't want her to know that he was on to them, that he wasn't already aware of what was taking place. For all he knew, they could be setting him up to be framed for something and take the fall while they make a run for it. It had a 'Thelma and Louise' touch to it. Two women against the world and believing that no one could stand in their way.

Yeah, well, Michael wasn't going to play into any of this.

For now he would play along, but when the time came he was going to make sure that he revealed them for the phonies they were. He couldn't believe he'd been so foolish, that for even a minute he'd bought into the lies that Heather had told him. She truly was a remarkable one. To have him going for as long as she did, that girl must be a well organized criminal.

Oh, how wrong he was.


	6. Chp 6: Old Horrors Revisited

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay between chapters. Trying to spin out two chapters in one month is becoming a bit troublesome for me, but I do try to keep up as quickly as I can. Anyways, we're back with Heather now. Who is set to explore Midwich Elementary and find out whats beckoning her towards that area of the town.

* * *

Chapter Six

Old Horrors Revisited

Heather stood on the steps that led up to the elementary school, her heart hammering in her chest as she decided on what to do.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but, there was something about this school that made her feel as if she'd been here before. Like she'd attended the school in her past life. Call it déjà vu. Or perhaps it was something she remembered from a dream? Her dreams always did have a way of telling her something, whether it be about her past or somewhere that she needed to go. There was also this nagging feeling in the back of her head suggesting very strongly that she take off running in the other direction, as fast as she could, find a way out of this town and never come back. Nevertheless, Heather decided that she was going to take a look around inside. Maybe she'd find someone who could help her figure out how to get out of this damn place.

The front of the school was damaged from years of neglect, its brick foundation slowly breaking down. Most of the windows that lined the front of the first floor had been smashed, jagged pieces left in its place. Graffiti decorated the cracked pavement that stretched from the foot of the door, down to the bottom of the stairs. The hedges that had once stood on either side of the pavement were now dried up husks of their formers selves.

It was cold inside the lobby of the school, the only source of light coming from the windows that had been smashed. The pale light filtered into the lobby, illuminating the empty area. To her right was the main office where she would've gone back when the school was still open. A set of stairs was across from her, leading down a hallway that was pitch-black. And lastly, to the right of the lobby was the entrance to what Heather had to guess was the gymnasium from the design of the rusting doors. The floor was littered with dirt and leaves, the paint on the walls were cracked and peeling, flakes of it falling into piles on the floor.

Glass crunched beneath her heels as Heather walked over to the office door, placing her hand on it, she found that it was locked. She frowned. Odds of finding the key was slim and there was no way she was going to be able to force the door open. Perhaps there was another way in? Or turn up the key to gain access?

"Like I'll ever find a thing in this place." She murmured, turning away from the office and opting of what to do next.

Starting towards the stairs, Heather took them one at a time as her eyes began to adjust to the length of pitch-black hallway. On either side of her were doors, after testing several of them, she found that they were either locked or the door was being blocked by something on the other side. Several holes were punched in the wall, wires hung loosely from the ceiling and several patch's of said ceiling were missing.

Heather walked through the long, winding corridor ahead of her. She passed by bulletin boards that had once been decorated with fliers of upcoming school events and photo's from past ones, but they were worn and old, barely recognizable in the unpenetrable darkness. On either side, banks of rusted lockers stood shut, some not even having doors or they were barely hanging onto the crumbling hinges that held them in place.

The place was to quiet. Every minute of two, Heather thought that she could hear something over the sound of her echoing footsteps in the dark hallway. It sounded like a second pair of footsteps. Placing their movement just right to walk in tune with her as to not alert her to their presence.

Searching through the darkness gave her a view of what looked to be the janitors closet. Upon inspection Heather found that the door was unlocked, so she decided to check it out, finding that it held what you'd expect to find. Digging through the shelves in search of anything that might be useful, all she came up with were miscellaneous disinfectants and industrial cleaners that were used to clean up messes, a strong scent of ammonia filled her nostrils and twisted knots into her stomach.

_Hey, whats this?!_ At the back on the top shelve was a metal object and when she pulled it out, Heather found that it was a flashlight and it upon further inspection she came up with a thick ring of old-fashioned keys. It would seem that there was a God after all and he was looking out for her for once in her life. It was one of those old-fashioned flashlights and when she turned it on, the entire closet was lit up with brilliant light.

With the weight of the flashlight in her hands, Heather stepped back into the hallway and illuminated the pitch-black hall. Everything looked the same, say for the light to reflect shadows that danced off the corners of the ceiling. She licked her lips, caution in each step that she took as she tensed for anything that might jump out at her.

Up ahead there was a door that stood open, plastered on the rotting wood was "RELIGION". Curious of what the towns idea of religion was, she poked her head in the room and swung the flashlight around. It looked like your typical classroom. Several rows of desks stretched the length of the open space in the middle of the room. On the aged chalkboard to her right, there were scratches as if someone had repeatedly dug their claws into it. The blinds had been pulled down on the windows, light from outside ebbing in through the cracks.

Deciding to check out some of the old desks, Heather made her way down the first row. She took notice of how most of them were falling apart, not that she expected any different with how desolate that town was.

One in particular caught her interest, sitting at the very back of the row was a desk that looked out of place amongst the other ones. There were several indention's carved into the decaying wood. Most obvious ones were "WITCH" and a pentagram that most people commonly mixed up with being associated with satanic rituals. Flipping open the top of the desk, Heather found that there were items typical of a school child inside. From text books, to pencils and loose papers, what caught her eye the most was a leather bound book. Picking it up, she ran a finger delicately over the rough material to make sure that it wasn't an hallucination.

Looking at the first page as she opened it up, she saw that there was something written on the inside: _**This Journal is the property of Alessa Jenine Gillespie of Silent Hill. If misplaced, please return to 1206 Levin Street.**_

_Alessa Gillespie's journal!?_

She had no idea how this thing had survived for this long, but that it was still here after all this time made her wonder if she was meant to find it. It did feel strange, like someone had deliberately left it here for her to come across.

But who?

There was no one in this damn town and who she did come across, there was no way in hell Heather was going to trust them.

Flipping through the entries in Alessa's journal, she found that there were a lot of painful moments in the young girls life. Everyone she knew hated her. An outcast in a town where people were governed under one belief and if you were the least bit different from them, they would crucify you for it. Not even her own mother would stand up for her. Instead, Dahlia Gillespie encouraged the young girl to be fearful of her classmates and the other towns people.

It angered her to no ends to think that a mother would do that to her child. The poor girl must have went through her entire life thinking that no one cared about her, that she was alone in the world. A life like that, it was no wonder that she became so fucking demented after all those years.

Outside in the hall there was the soft creaking of a door opening up, followed by a child's laughter and footsteps that steadily became distant with each passing second. Standing up, Heather ran out of the classroom and looked around to pinpoint the source of the noise.

"Is someone there!?"

More laughter drifted down the hall from her left, and the back of a child as she turned the corner was all the answer she needed to give chase.

Running down the hallway, she swung around the flashlight while trying to find where the little girl had gone. She tried to remain as silent as possible, her steps echoing off the cracked tile floor as she pressed onward. It was becoming increasingly annoying chasing after her, but Heather knew that she needed to talk to her if she was going to understand what was going on. They were two half's that had been separated upon birth, both were alive, but at the same time, neither were complete without the other.

The little girl was leading her further into the school, her breathing was hitched with fatigue from chasing after her. Heather had no idea where she was leading her, the school was like a maze, it was no wonder that she hadn't gotten herself lost.

The air around her was heavy and bleak, leaving a slight choking feeling in the back of Heather's throat that left her taking in short breaths of air. She didn't know why her breathing had became so shallow, it was like something was sucking the air out from the vents above her. Her heart-rate picked up. Something wasn't right. The ever present feeling of someone watching her from the vents made Heather clam up as she moved into the next hall.

From behind her, there was the sound of plodding footsteps. Each step a wet squishing sound that reminded her of what meat would sound like when a hole was punched through it. A soft rasping noise followed those footsteps. It sent chills down her spine, her subconscious forming grotesque images of what it could be in her head.

"Alessa? Are you there!?"

No reply.

This didn't settle to well with Heather.

If that wasn't Alessa making that noise, then who the hell was it?

Pressing forward, she soon came across a set of double doors that were rusted almost beyond recognition. There was a thick chain wrapped around the handles, baring anyone from being able to get through and it looked as if it had recently be done judging from how little rust decorated it. Pulling out the set of keys that she'd found earlier, each one was tried until their was a soft click from the lock that held the chains together. They quickly unwound themselves and she pulled them away, the hinges snapping away from the frames and hanging awkwardly.

Poking her head through the door, Heather looked around with the flashlight and found that she'd just opened up a side entrance into the gymnasium that she'd seen in the main hall of the school.

The hardwood floor that stretched the length of the massive gymnasium was cracked, several rotted boards were speckled out at intervals in the hardwood, positioned like pimples on a persons face. Off to the left, two sets of old-fashioned bleachers were cluttered in a corner and covered with a blanket. Scattered around it was miscellaneous equipment such as boards, paint cans and a ladder that was tipped onto its side like someone had left in a hurry. All of this paled in comparison to the monolithic hole that took up most of the space. It was like someone had ripped up a giant chunk of hole out of the floor and had removed it from the gymnasium. Peering into the hole, she saw nothing but pitch darkness. Not even the flashlight in her hand would yield any sight beyond the black pit. Above her there were several tapestries and banisters that depicted the victories the school had achieved over the years that they were open. Several of them were torn, hanging limply and flapping lazily from the air that was coming in from a hole in the ceiling.

On the right of where Heather stood at, there was a set of stairs that would take her up to the second floor balcony that ran the entire span of the right side of the gymnasium. She couldn't make it out from here, but it looked as if there might be a room in the back. Probably the room where the girl's changed into their gym clothes before class. Either way, there was no way she was going to check it out because the stairs were missing a huge chunk in the middle.

It looked as if she would be going through the door that was in front of her, throwing the flashlight in front of her as she moved on from the gym. The next hall was no different from the rest. The darkness in front of her was nearly impregnable, the flashlight in her hands vainly attempting to give her guidance.

From behind her, there was a soft grunt. It was the sound you'd hear when someone was clearing their throats just before they were about so say something. The only problem with that was that there wasn't anyone with her. Whoever or _whatever_ had made that noise caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up and as she swung around with her flashlight, throwing it in front of her just as a flash of alabaster skin flashed by and tore past her into the darkness.

Whatever it was, it was on all fours as she could hear that tick-tack of claws as it scraped across the aged tile-flooring. Swinging around, Heather saw it round the corner in the hall and for a second considered giving chase to it. A fools move of course, she had no idea what it was and the likeliness of it trying to kill her was high.

Instead Heather inched forward slowly, her hands shaking and causing the light to dance in front of her. Planting her back against the wall, she bathed the next hall in a pale glow of light as she scanned the length of the corridor for any signs of the mysterious creature. It was nowhere to be seen, but the mess in its wake laid littered throughout the hall. An entire shelf that held the schools trophies had been knocked over, spilling the relics of victory onto the floor and blocking her advancement down the hallway. Approaching the display case, she quickly searched the broken wood for any signs of mobility so that she could perhaps move it and found purchase with one of the boards. Suppressing a grunt, she pushed on the board and moved it out of the way, then got down on all fours and crawled beneath the wood.

On the other side, Heather found herself standing in a square hallway with halls that branched off in front of her and either side of her. Across from her a door stood open, a soft humming coming from it. Beckoning Heather to come forward. And that was just what she did.

Standing in the entrance of the room, she saw that it was the nurses office. The room was sterile white and looked impeccably unscathed by the years of decay like the rest of the school had. A cabinet sat off to the right, stock full of medical supplies and treats for the children that were taken care of. Next to that was a sink, stocked with provisions that in the right hands would last for some time in the right hands. To the left sat a single wooden table that was used as a makeshift desk, miscellaneous items placed on the desk. It was evident that a woman worked here, judging from the pictures of a beautiful blonde woman that sat on the desk. She was smiling brightly, her arms wrapped around an elderly man who Heather figured was her father.

"Hello, Cheryl."

Turning around, Heather saw a young girl that could be no older than ten sitting on the counter. Her black hair hung down past the purple dress she wore, legs crossed and the grace of a woman long past what her age was. It was the young girl from the photo that she'd found in the store. This was Alessa Gillespie, the young girl who she'd been incarnated from all those years ago.

"A-Alessa." She was at a loss for words. Heather never thought that she'd come face to face with her past self, not after having slain her from her previous endeavor in Silent Hill. Just that she was standing in front of her made Heather think that she was going to try and kill her again like before.

"Don't be scared, I will not harm you."

She was hesitant at first, not believing the young girl from the experience at the "Happy Carousel".

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," Alessa smiled. There was an innocence to that smile. Like an unspoken message that she truly wouldn't harm Heather, but, there was a sense of dread building up inside of her as well. "However, you don't really have a choice. Do you?"

"I guess not." She told the young girl. It was a hollow reply, but there wasn't much that she could say otherwise.

Sitting down on the corner of the desk, Heather kept her eyes on the young girl in case she were to try anything. Knowing from her previous experience in Silent Hill, you didn't want to turn your back on anyone you met in this place for no more than a minute. You never knew what waited for you in the dark. That old saying of never judging a book by its cover certainly applied to this place, that much Heather was sure of.

"Why have you returned here, Cheryl?" Alessa asked. Her once innocent demeanor quickly turned solemn. "When you departed from the town, I was sure that you would never returned, but, you have come back. Why?"

"I-I was forced too." There really was no other way that Heather could put it. And why did she have to call her Cheryl of all names.

Alessa looked to be anything but pleased with her response.

"What do you want from me, Alessa?"

"I want you to leave." She glanced precariously to the photo that was sitting on the desk. "When you defeated me at the carousel, you showed me your will to live and I decided that it wasn't my choice to decide whether or not you lived. Yet, you came right back to the very place that wanted to condemn you to birthing an abomination. Now, why should I take pity on you this time around?"

Heather remained silent.

Truth was, there was nothing that she could say that would suffice a reason for Alessa to spare her this time around. In fact, Heather was surprised that the young girl hadn't already tried to kill her. There was more to this than what she was letting on, Alessa wouldn't just let her walk away without there being a reason behind it.

"I'm sorry, Heather." The young girl calmly said as she stood up, her arms down at her side. "I can't be a lenient as before, my creatures demand blood and that I cannot deny them anymore. If you can survive while you are here, I will allow you to leave, but I cannot protect you from them."

With that said, Alessa walked past her and out into the hall.

"Hey, wait!"

Heather ran out into the hallway, only to find that the young girl had disappeared. She looked around, but there was no sign of where Alessa had gone. Had she imagined the conversation the entire time? Was she starting to lose it because of being back in this god forsaken town?

Sighing, Heather walked back into the nurses office and over to where the desk was at so that she could sit down. Her head was beginning to hurt again, the throbbing at the base of her forehead returning as she tried to absorb all of what Alessa had just told her. Eyes falling onto the picture of the nurse on the desk, she became curious and picked it up to examine it once more. As she sat there staring at it, a soft growl came from the hallway and the tick-tocking of talons as the figure from earlier stood in the frame of the door.

"Oh, my god!"


End file.
